


I found him between a reality and a nightmare.

by Gee_Writes



Series: Skinny Jeans and Khaki [6]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Greenie!Gon, Hipster!Killua, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2019732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gee_Writes/pseuds/Gee_Writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a while, he mused, since the last time he had had a nightmare.  Not since before he’d met Gon.<br/>Tonight's nightmare wasn't a usual one.<br/>Perhaps that was worse.</p><p>Two days, a double date, and Killua can't sleep.<br/>So, really, it was only a matter of time.</p><p>Modern(?) AU where Killua is afraid of his own dreams, and Gon makes a convincing argument.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was dark.  It was quiet.

Cold sweat soaking him, he had woken with a start.  The nightmare fading as his breathing evened and time passed; the steady inhales and exhales beside him an assuring comfort.  Harsh lighted numbers of the clock burned into his eyes, adding insult to injury.

It had been a while, he mused, since the last time he had had a nightmare.  Not since before he’d met Gon.  Those ones though, hadn’t lingered after the fact.  Tonight’s was heavy, pressing down on his chest, suffocating.  Tonight’s wasn’t about his brother, or his father, or his caged existence at all – it had been about _Gon_.  A Gon he didn’t recognise, in body or in attitude.  Angry.  Cold.  A Gon who broke him, rather than connected all his pieces.  A Gon who walked away from him, from everything.  And within his dream Killua had done nothing, could do nothing but watch his friend slip away from where he could reach – the emotional distance much farther than the physical.  Invisible weights slowing him down and a throat clenched so tight he could barely whisper, let alone scream his best friend’s name.  He’d clutched his chest, willing the broken pieces inside of him to glue together so he could help Gon, but all that he could hear was the echoing rattle of a shattered heart. 

And with that he awoke.

Slipping silently from the bed, he padded quietly to the ensuite.  Turning the shower onto the lowest setting, he strained to hear if there had been a change in Gon’s sleeping; whether he had heard him.  He really hoped not.

Under the water and enveloped in steam, Killua finally found some calm.  He stood there, shower water pushing a steady thrum to the back of his head, steam filling the deepest parts of his lungs.  Tears that had been threatening a headache shed themselves quietly, mixing with the water from above.  It wasn’t so much crying as it was a release on the pressure and tension that had built up, but either way, he felt better.  Now he just wanted to get back to bed and collapse into dreamless sleep; snuggle close to Gon and find the places he fit.  To forget the last lingering strings of the nightmare.

And when he did just that, he never noticed the timid peeking from the brown-eyed boy.  Didn’t detect when he was hugged closer.

Didn’t perceive the frown.

 

* * *

 

They had agreed to go to the cinema, Gon insisting it was a double date whilst Leorio firmly denied it.  Kurapika looked nonplussed either way.

It had been quite a while since they had seen the two; Leorio too occupied with his studies most days, and Kurapika spending more and more time at the library to fill the lonely hours he was left with.  When they weren’t reading book after book, they were arguing.  When they weren’t arguing, they were sleeping, tucked into each other.  Rare was the moments anyone saw them civil, rarer was the loving moments.  From the outside, no one was quite sure.

Right now they were stuck firmly in that second scenario, voices gaining volume as they made their way through the line. 

“I _told_ you, it’s a stupid premise and we’re both guaranteed to hate it.”

“Well, if you know so much, why don’t _you_ just go home?  I’m sure everyone would be happier that way.”

“I haven’t seen Gon or Killua _either_ , you know.”

“Then why did you suggest a movie if all you’re going to do is complain?”

“SHU-shut up”

It was at this point Killua tuned out.  Trying to follow an argument between the two of them was futile; he’d learnt that the hard way.  Feigning interest in the various posters lining the walls, he was only half-aware when Gon reached for his pocketed hand.  Let go of his held breath when Gon just kept his focus on the bickering couple, acting as if their linked hands were an everyday occurrence.  Well, actually, they were. That didn’t stop the warmth welling up, so he kept his eyes firmly trained on the line of gaudy movie advertisements.  It wasn’t long before the four had paid their tickets and Killua found himself sat in a plush-albeit-sticky cinema chair, Gon sat beside and fingers still interlocked.  Smooth movements tickling with a feather-light touch.

They sat like that for a while, Gon making conversation with their friends as the cinema slowly filled.  Rather than joining the candid conversation about the sustainability of printed books, Killua instead decided to watch the lazy movement of Gon’s thumb, stroking the juncture between thumb and finger.  Settled his eyelids closed in contentment.  Revelled in his happiness, still an edge of foreignness no matter how often he felt it these days. 

The lights dimmed, and the mild chatter within the room slowly faded out.  Killua quietly stretched his back out before settling deeper into his seat, eyes flickering from the screen to the face of the youth beside him, bright light from the projection painting his face in an array of colour and shadow.  A bright smile caught him off guard when he was noticed, and he timidly returned it – resulting in Gon’s stretching his grin even wider. 

The opening notes of a relatively popular song started, title taking up the screen.

He'd heard about this film from Alluka, based off of one of her many sappy love novels she read.  Had pointed out the trailers whenever she saw them.  Something about finding new love after tragedy – absolutely nothing of interest to Killua, but it hadn't been his choice.

Hadn't realised the tragedy would be so, well, _tragic_.

And usually that never affected him, but the unsettled feelings from his nightmare hours before were starting to creep.  To take residence in his mind.

Unlike the earlier scenario, these had a firm foot in reality.  A heated argument, a horrific accident.  Having to watch the one you love most in the world fade into nothing on a hospital bed, machinery stringing their life along.  Couldn't help picturing Gon broken against hard asphalt, against harsh white sheets.  Buzzing monitors a poor replacement for his vibrant personality.  Killua having to say good bye for good, forever, as Mito cried to the doctors.  As their world broke to pieces; their tiny family splintering apart in pain, from pain.  And the worst, _absolutely_ , was the thought that the pain might fade, that he might move on.

Would _love_ someone else.

Perhaps that was when he started crying, or maybe he had been all along.  Didn't realise until Gon squeezed his hand and wiped an errant tear as it fell.  Concern painted in primary colours on his face. 

“Killua?”  A soft voice he wasn't used to hearing.  Worry.

He choked on half a sob, embarrassed at his crying, embarrassed in how relieved he was.

Moving their entwined hands, dark eyes watched for a reaction as he kissed pale white skin.  Saw some sort of approval before shifting to his lips.  Longer than they were used to, the dark giving a modicum of privacy, and Killua found himself less embarrassed about his fervent blush when no one could see it.

“G-Gon,” he whispered, still sounding too loud in the quiet in the room.  He could see those deep eyes, darker in the poor light – rich chocolate brown searching for something in Killua’s expression.  Moved to cup the other's face; rough fingers brushing the shell of Killua's ear, the soft skin of his neck.  Goosebumps creeping up his nape, he sucked in a breath, anticipation thrumming in his ears.  Knew he must have looked a mess with his flushed, tear-streaked cheeks and wide eyes.  But Gon just looked and smiled.

Gon just looking at him with those eyes that could find the value in everything, find the value in _him_.

It was too much to take, so he did it himself - albeit a lot less gracefully and with enough force for their noses to bump together roughly.  Mouths more open and half a name on each other's tongue, Killua was moving more on instinct than through thought, hadn't realised when Gon had started soft caresses, soon moving his lips down to the column of bare neck.  Killua shuddered an exhale, mortified when he remembered _oh. We're in public.  With **friends**_.  Tried to gain Gon's attention as he sucked a bruise into his collarbone. 

“Go-ngh.  Gon, wait.”

A hard exhale.  “What, Killua?”  Lips pressed against newly-purpled skin.

“To-too much.” 

“Hmmn?” Killua could feel vibrations against his throat.

“You can sto-AH-p,” a suck on his earlobe, “this is _embarrassing_.”

“Don't be embarrassed Killua, you're cute.”

“That is NGH- **not** the problem.”

“Would you two **_shut up_**?”   Gon being pulled off and popcorn shoved into his face, Killua wiping his neck and blushing hard.  “You two are **_not_** the only one's here,” Kurapika's voice barely over a whisper.  “We're at the end of the film, _please_ wait til you get home.”

And as apologetic and horrifically embarrassed as Killua must have looked, Gon negated it all, flashing the mischievous grin he reserved for particular tricky challenges his way.

It would probably be a while until they'd be invited to anything again.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

They didn’t fight like this – couldn’t understand what Gon was so angry about, why Alluka was cowering in the far corner, why nothing made _sense._

“Gon, just –“

“Why should I?  This isn’t fair Killua.  You and all your **_problems_** have been causing trouble since we met; but as soon as **_I_** have an issue, it’s no big deal; **_right_**?”

“If you could just tell me what –”

“It must be great, not having to care…"

“Gon, please, what –”

“ **… _because this has nothing to do with you._** ”

He walked away, out of the kitchen, out of the apartment.  Killua stood, frozen, broken.  Knew that if he tried to move it’d hit him hard in areas too raw and tender to survive.  Hours passed, but Killua didn’t expect him to come back; didn’t expect anything.  Couldn’t figure out how to fix this; assuming, of course, that it could be fixed.  Right?  **_Right?_**

_Gon loved him, right?_

The phone ringing made him jump.  He reached for it to apologise.  Didn’t expect Mito.

 

-

 

The hospital smelled of death and antiseptic.

He didn’t want to be here.

He shouldn’t be here, because it wasn’t true.  Some sick joke.

Both women beside him we’re crying in various intensities.  He wanted to tell them not to worry; the doctors were lying, the policemen too.  That the nurse was in on the joke.  She was playing along, acting up for the scenario.

That Gon was perfectly fine.

The unsteady beeping of a heart monitor proved him wrong.

 

-

 

It had been a month.

A month of silence; a month of hospital trips.

A month of being alone.

But today.

Today that would all end.

Not the alone part, that would never stop.

But everything else.

_Everything else would end._

 

-

 

The first thing he did when he woke was run to the bathroom, spitting out bile into the sink.  Face a mess from sweat and tears, he ran the tap and grabbed the closest handtowel.  Realised it was Gon’s.

It was too much.  Crumpling to the floor, he sobbed.  Face stuffed in the towel, body heat seeping into the tiles and leaving him chilled.  He was acting stupid, he thought.  Knew it was a dream, but allowed it to upset him.  Allowed it to _scare_ him.  That movie and these nightmares, making him paranoid.

He felt the air move as the door to the bathroom opened.  Tried to calm down – really _tried_ , but that only made him cough, muffled into the towel.  All at once he was happy it was there; at least Gon wouldn’t have to see him in this disgusting state, pathetically crying over a dream on the floor of the ensuite.

He could hear the light being turned off, as well as the tap, almost deafening silence following.  Shuffling as a warm body sat itself on the floor.  Muscled back leaning against his, the quiet sound of breathing the only noise in the echoing bathroom.  It was a simple comfort, encouraging Killua to finally move the towelling from his face and lift his head out of his hands.  Neither said anything for a long while, until Killua snuffled a bit and wiped his nose.  The tranquillity of the hush was broken, and Gon took a long exhale.

“Do you want to talk about it?”  Hand searching for the other’s in the dark, interlacing their fingers like normal.  _Like normal._

Killua gave a half-hearted chuckle before replying, “Not really, but I probably should.”  It was a pause before he added, meekly, “It’s really stupid though.”

“Well that’s OK, I don’t understand smart things.”

“ _Idiot._ ”

“Exactly.”

He let out a sigh, the last of the tension in his body leaving as he smiled minutely to himself.  He truly was grateful he had met Gon.

He squeezed the hand in his.

“You died.”   A sharp inhale responded.  “In my dream, I mean.”  Killua had to check he hadn’t started crying again.  Not yet, thank goodness, or he’d never get through the whole thing.  “You died slowly.  You were angry at me, and I never learnt why – because you _died_ , Gon.”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

“What?  You getting angry?”

“Me dying.”

Half a laugh, breathy in his mouth.  “It’s not exactly something people make a habit out of, Gon.”

“But you know what, Killua?  It’s never going to happen.  I’m never going to leave you alone.”

He couldn’t see his face from here, back-to-back, but Killua knew, _knew_ that Gon had that look.  The one he made when he was certain, when he was determined to prove his words.  Even when he knew those words were absolutely unsubstantiated, he trusted them anyway.  Gon’s self-confidence had a way of doing that.

“I couldn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t want to anyway.  We’ve only had a year together; we still have so much to do.  Neither of us can die, _especially_ without the other.  We’re going to be a thousand years old, and I’ll still love you just the same.”

And sitting there, hand-in-hand, back-to-back, in the darkness of their bathroom, Killua cried a little more.  A little longer.

And he believed. 

 

* * *

 

It was the nightmare that had made him realise; had torn him from the inside in regret.

Now he knew that he couldn’t allow it, would take the chance whilst he had it.  He was calm, calmer than he expected to be in this situation.

It was dark, and it was quiet, that first time.

When he whispered, “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far, I really appreciate it.
> 
> This is a little different than parts before, but I hope it turned out OK. The title is a quote from Shannon A. Thompson's Take Me Tomorrow
> 
> My greatest thanks to [wartransmission](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission), as usual. She's wonderful, even when I make her cry. Thank you, friend!  
> If you're not reading [one hundred](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1833439/chapters/3938320), you need to be.
> 
> And of course, Happy Birthday Fi. I hope it was a good one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon's perspective.
> 
> Nightmares lingering.

He'd had a nightmare.

It was obvious by the way his breathing had stuttered in sleep; cold sweat forming on his brow, furrowed in anguish. Killua pulling the sheets as he thrashed about, tears leaking from the corner of scrunched up eyes. Then all at once he was still, movement completely suspended as tears continued to stream. Gon was reaching out - planning to wipe away the tear tracks down his best friend's cheeks; planning to kiss his forehead, cradle him close as he whispered into his hair – when he heard it. A single, broken sob of a word, heavy with sleep.

_“Gon.”_

That one word, his name, froze him. He had suspected, but to know for certain broke something fragile within. It curled in his stomach and settled thickly, breath hitching as the other started to mumble apologies in his sleep. He didn't know what to do - what he could do – in this situation. His hand moved to touch the other's forearm, but jumped back when Killua sat bolt upright, eyes huge but unseeing. The other boy pitched forward, before stumbling towards the tiny bathroom on the opposite wall. Panicked.

Running water and the harsh light of fluorescents spilled from the ajar door. He could hear dry retching and spitting, as the pooled sadness in the pit of his stomach clenched tight. It was a moment before the sobbing started in the other room, but Gon knew it was a continuation of the nightmare that had been plaguing Killua all night. 

As he stood, Gon considered that maybe he should just play dumb like he had the night before. That was quickly discarded when the sound of another retching sob tore through him, weighed on his heart.

He opened the door as quietly as he could, but could tell in the way Killua's back stiffened that he had noticed Gon's entrance. Crumpled on the tiled floor, he seems so much smaller, delicate. White hair and pale back harsh in the overhead light, loud collision of water into the sink overwhelming. It was surprising how nauseous he felt seeing Killua like this, emptying his heart into a cheap towel. And knowing that _somehow_ this was his fault. That _he_ was the reason the person he loved the most in the world had taken refuge in their tiny ensuite, too wary to seek Gon out.

Switching off the light and the tap, he settled beside the other, back to back. The dark made it a little easier to pretend that everything was fine; the echoing of his breath bouncing around. At a wet sniffle behind him, Gon let out the breath he was holding, dragging the air out slowly.

There was dim light from the moon outside, but not enough to cut the shadows in the room. It took a few attempts, but soon enough their fingers were intertwined in the gloom. No matter what, he wanted to keep Killua secure, stop him floating too far out of reach. He could feel the quick pace of the other's pulse, staccato and off-beat. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

It was something he was trying to be better at, talking about things. Wanted to understand what it was that upset Killua so much - even though it might hurt, _would_ hurt, both of them. Killua laughed in a suspiciously broken-hearted way; a sound Gon knew he'd never want to hear again.

“Not really, but I probably should.” A few seconds of silence, as Gon tried to understand just what Killua meant by that, when he followed up with, “It’s really stupid though.”

“Well that’s OK, I don’t understand smart things.” It was only half in jest.

“ _Idiot_.” He could hear the humour crawl itself back into the other's voice. It was a relief.

“Exactly.”

They spent an hour sitting on the tile, just talking, some crying, back to back – and then later, side by side. Hands linked and heads on shoulders. Killua poured his fears into the room; opened up farther than Gon had ever experienced from him before.

And later, when they were cleaned up and calm, the grey of early morning peeking between the blinds, they lay in bed. They were breathing slowly in synchronisation, the distance between less than a finger. Drowsiness was lulling him, but the three words whisper soft in the quiet crackled like electricity in his veins. It wasn't really the first time – maybe in words, but not nearly in feeling – the sentiment having been evident for a long, long time. But hearing it struck a fire in his belly. It was a moment before he did anything, locked in the steady blue gaze.

When they kissed, it made his heart well up. Pure emotion and warm, trusting comfort. Long and deep and easier to grasp than in the cinema the day before. More honest.

And when they pulled away, half a second or a thousand years later, it was obvious something had changed. A strong resolve clear in Killua's eyes, the bright blush seemingly unacknowledged. He was happy; more so than Gon had ever seen him, perhaps. 

He loved him.

_He loved him._

It was a dream come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> This started as a short chapter for [The Spaces Between (Our Hearts and Our Minds)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1839715/chapters/3953905), but ended up much longer than originally planned. As such, I thought it was more appropriate to be posted here.
> 
> As usual, my greatest thanks to [wartransmission](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission). Thank you for everything, friend!
> 
> If you want to leave me a message, or just chat HxH, my tumblr is compulsive-bibliotaph.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee)!


End file.
